Sub Rosa
by Eloquent Quill
Summary: Explorations of the personal interactions of the characters beyond but based on what is presented in the actual episodes.  Eventually Mike/Connie.


Connie shut her briefcase with a snap and pushed her hair out of her face. Sighing, she picked up her Blackberry. _9:34_, it read. Early enough to change into sweats and a t-shirt and lounge in front of the TV with a bad chick flick and a glass of wine. She swept up the last of the paperwork for the Bailey case, which she and Jack had wrapped up two weeks ago to deposit in D.A. Arthur Branch's office, from the worn brown wood of her desk. A shuffling alerted her to someone's approach.

Jack McCoy's face appeared around the corner. The frown on his face was carved into his face more deeply than usual.

She shifted her weight to lean on her desk. "Something wrong, Jack?"

He crossed his arms, and his eyebrows sank even lower, something Connie would have sworn shouldn't have been possible. He huffed and sat down in a chair in the corner of her office. "Arthur is stepping down at the end of the month."

She smirked. "Finally decided that he's had enough of the darker side of humanity?"

"Wants to move back down to the sunny Southern states, more like."

Silence. Jack still didn't move. Connie suddenly saw herself arriving in the morning to find that he hadn't moved a muscle. "So...," Connie began hesitantly. "Any thoughts as to his replacement?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Connie cleared her throat pointedly. Jack glanced up, and she raised one eyebrow. Connie had never seen him like this. Jack's _modus operandi_ was to start bombastically arguing, with wide exaggerated gestures. _I'm not the one you have to convince,_ she'd say, and he would mumble, pick up the file and take a drink from his coffee mug - or his favorite scotch glass, whichever was closer at hand.

"Well?" she demanded. A growing sense of uneasiness gnawed at her. She couldn't think of any good scenarios that would cause this kind of reaction in her boss. "Jack, if you tell me that he's going to cave into the governor and pick that disaster he's been endorsing, I swear, I'll..."

"Worse," he said. Then gruffly, "he wants _me_ to replace him."

Jack? As D.A.? The bubble of uneasiness burst and she laughed out loud. At Jack's defeated look, she sobered briefly, then grinned. "Jack, is that all? The way you looked when you came in, I thought that the governor had pardoned a felon that you personally convicted and ordered him to replace Arthur and fire you. " She paused. "That's great, really great, Jack. There isn't anyone better for the job. "

He just shook his head and uncrossed his arms. Connie could read the skepticism in every inch of his tired form.

"I'm not a politician, Connie," he said tiredly.

Connie looked at him shrewdly. "And yet you're not saying no."

More silence.

Connie sighed again. "Look, Jack. I won't say that I'm not surprised that Arthur picked you. I would've thought that he'd go for someone with more..."

"Tact. Ability to project meaningless doublespeak."

Connie smiled wryly. "Something like that. But Jack, you're the most committed prosecutor in this District. You've got the highest conviction rate in this office and you know the system like the back of your hand. You seek justice, and you've got a conscience. That's something that most of the phonies in office can't say." She tilted her head to the side, surveying him. "Besides, think of all the good you can do as D.A., all the ridiculous, overreaching motions that you can sign off on in your crusades for the city."

Jack chuckled. Connie continued, "You can do a lot of good in that office." She jabbed her index finger in his direction. "Do you seriously think you could work for someone that you didn't respect? You know there's not really anyone else for the job, and you wouldn't last long working for someone that didn't have the same...values and integrity that you do."

"I can do a lot of damage in that office, too, Connie. I'm a hard-ass prosecutor. I like that job."

"You've built your identity around it. Some change would do you good." She shook her head. "Jack, I can't believe I have to try to convince you to do this." She tapped her manicured fingertips against her desk. The clacking sound seemed to bring Jack to his senses. He suddenly seemed to remember where he was. He looked up and heaved a deep breath.

"We should pay you extra for the pep talks, Connie." He smiled, and although it didn't reach his eyes, some of the tension had left his shoulders.

Connie just picked up her briefcase and Blackberry, moving to the door. She paused in the doorway and looked at her mentor, who she'd come to deeply respect and care for. A real father-figure and one of the reasons she'd been convinced in the past year to stay with the D.A.'s office.

"I'll miss working with you, Jack," she admitted.

He smiled, and this one did reach his eyes. "Likewise, Connie. If I do this, I'll be stuck pandering to sycophants at all levels of government."

"I'll still be here," she reassured him.

"Thank God," he declared. "Maybe I should make you an EADA. Then at least I'd know that some of my cases will be properly tried."

Connie laughed. "I'm flattered, but we both know that I don't have quite enough experience for that yet. "

Connie saw Jack's eyes fix on a distant point in the room again. She signed again, this time mentally. "See you on Monday?"

He nodded absently, only moving to drop his chin into his hand.


End file.
